Hey you
by gr8k9
Summary: Court time for Ryan. Eventually. Every action has an equal but opposite reaction. Well, maybe not equal and maybe not opposite. Depends on your point of view.
1. Hey you

Hey You  
  
Dark Side of the Moon: Pink Floyd  
  
Hey you, standing in the road  
  
Always doing what you're told,  
  
Can you help me?  
  
Hey you, out there beyond the wall,  
  
Breaking bottles in the hall,  
  
Can you help me?  
  
Hey you, don't tell me there's no hope at all  
  
Together we stand, divided we fall.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
The sounds of a PS2 game echo through the house, the screeching of tires, the whoo-whee of a siren, and the sounds of high speed, high stakes competition among two close friends.  
  
"And the master once again wins. Someday, grasshopper, you too will become a master with students of your own. That I will of course obliterate, Just to keep you humble" With those words the young man leaps off the sofa, almost crashing headlong into the wall. "Ok, Ryan, time for lunch. Since I won, I get to pick. And I chose we go out to eat. I just happen to have heard where Summer will be today. No choice- we're headin' off for pizza. And just for you- Summer will have word of Marissa, she saw her at the hospital today. And we've got.29 minutes to get there"  
  
The blue eyed blond on the sofa merely stared, still dazed by the gymnastics required by his friend to avoid the coffee table, the wall, the detritus of a morning spent with graphic novels and gaming strewn across the floor. "Huh, yeah, that's cool, I'm getting hungry- but my shift starts at 4."  
  
"Ryan, Ryan. Never fear, Dad's started his new job, Mom's got a project in trouble so she's gonna be late. It's us on our own. I'd be more than happy to be your chauffeur. Oh gosh, that means I'd have to stick around the beach for your shift. Hmmm, bummer, hard job there Ry, but someone's gotta do it. So just for you, I'll force myself. And it's now 28 minutes and counting. You ready?"  
  
"Yeah, 2 minutes" With that Ryan heads towards the pool house.  
  
Juggling the keys, Seth has almost reached the front door when the doorbell is heard. As he reaches for the door, the visitors start knocking too. Wondering who would be so anxious for an answer, Seth opens the door expecting- flowers, singing telegram, something fun, anything but a uniformed officer and a second man with police ID standing there.  
  
"Ryan Atwood?" The officer asks.  
  
"Yeah, no. I mean he's here but I'm not him" Seth responds.  
  
"And you are?" The officers are abrupt, stepping into the house, forcing Seth back.  
  
"I mean Ryan lives here, but he's not here, here" Seth is now getting anxious "Why? Why are you here?" Seth starts thinking this may not be good. In fact this may be bad, very bad. These guys seem too official, too intense.  
  
"We need to speak with Ryan Atwood, have you seen him today? Does he still live here?"  
  
Seth is getting even more uneasy, this is not going well. "ID, can I see ID?" he manages to get out. He does not look calm, cool and collected, in fact he looks guilty. He feels his anxiety level rise, he gets a bad feeling about this.  
  
Pulling his badge off his jacket pocket, the plain clothed officer shows a Juvenile Probation Department ID. As Seth is examining the ID, the probation officer starts his questions once again.  
  
"We know he's not at work, we called there. His shift isn't until later today. We left a message with his attorney, but we need to see Ryan now. Do you know where he might be?"  
  
Barely hearing the last set of questions, Seth looks up. "Huh, repeat that? Tell me again, why do you need to see Ryan?"  
  
Behind him, Seth hears the click of the side door and approaching footsteps. As he turns, Ryan comes into the view of both him and the officers. At the sight of a uniform, Ryan's body tenses and his walk slows.  
  
The officers turn from Seth, all attention on the young man now approaching. "Ryan Atwood?"  
  
A small nod, his eyes flash from one officer to the other. Ryan blocks out Seth, concentrating on the two men. His eyes drop to the badge back on the probation officer, flicker to the uniformed officer.  
  
"Ryan, I'm your new probation officer. Your Attorney, Sandy Cohen, had asked that your probation be transferred from Chino to Orange County. It's taken us a bit to finalize the paperwork, but we've also seen your name come across our desk in other files. We've been informed of some of your recent activities in violation of your probation. We left a message for your attorney to meet us at juvenile court this afternoon at 3 pm." Reaching into his jacket pocket, the probation officer held out paperwork - "A copy of this was delivered to your attorney's office today. You're being charged with a 777 Probation Violation. If upheld, your probation will be revoked. We're here to place you under arrest pending a hearing."  
  
During this speech, Ryan took a small step back. At his slight movement, the uniformed officer reacted instantly, moving to stand between Ryan and the side door. One hand on Ryan's shoulder anchored him in place. Seth stared in shock, unable to assimilate the current events.  
  
The parole officer continued, "Ryan, we have been informed that you recently traveled out of state without notifying the authorities, were involved in assault and battery and arson and were present during the commission of a felony. You also have a history of attempting to leave the custody of your attorney. We are charging you with violating your probation Do you understand?" When there was no response to his question, he repeated it, "Do you understand these charges?"  
  
Ryan swallowed, his face a mask. With all of his thoughts of what could go wrong in his life, this had not entered the picture. Memories ran through his mind of the events cited by the probation officer. The trip to Mexico. Fights with Luke and his friends. Donny shooting Luke. Running away, yet another fight with Luke and the fire in the model home. Police reports had been written up on most of them, he should have known it would be noticed eventually. He slowly nodded, and managed to utter a barely heard "yes" to the officer's question.  
  
The uniformed officer started giving orders, "place both your hands behind your head, relax your arms. Relax, don't fight it" Ryan's body was manipulated until he was quickly handcuffed. Patting down his pockets, the questions continued "Do you have any sharp objects? Are you carrying any drugs? You have the right to remain silent.." The officer continued with the Miranda warning, his voice thundering through Ryan's mind. Between the commands and Miranda, Ryan felt pulled five different ways. Unable to think clearly, his system was shocked to submission.  
  
As his body was turned back towards the door, Ryan finally noticed Seth standing there, clearly upset and distressed. "Seth" Ryan muttered. Louder. "Seth, call your Dad- now"  
  
Startled, Seth jerked his head up. "Yeah, yeah- Ryan hold on" Seth turned to the probation officer, "Can you wait a minute, I need to call my Dad. Don't take him yet. My Dad will be able to answer all of your questions, he can explain this. He's Ryan's guardian. You have to wait"  
  
The officers ignored Seth's questions, intent on doing their job. With Ryan safely in custody, they were ready to leave. They had done their job, minimum fuss, minimum bother, no screams, no fights, no weapons and best of all, no video cameras. To wait longer would increase the risk of problems. The attorney could answer any questions Seth had, no need for them to be involved in that part.  
  
Ryan however didn't ignore Seth. As the officers pulled him out the door, he looked back "Hey. It's cool Seth, don't worry. I'll be fine." With that, the door was closed and Ryan was gone. 


	2. Hey You part 2 Learning to Fly

Hey you, part 2  
  
Learning to Fly:  
  
A Momentary Lapse of Reason: Pink Floyd  
  
Into the distance, a ribbon of black  
  
Stretched to the point of no turning back  
  
A flight of fancy on a windswept field  
  
Standing alone my senses reeled  
  
A fatal attraction holding me fast, how  
  
Can I escape this irresistible grasp?  
  
Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies  
  
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I  
  
Seth paced through the house, phone attached to his ear. "Come on, answer, damm it" He heard the same voice from the last seven calls.  
  
"Law Offices, may I help you?"  
  
"Hello, I need to speak with Sandy Cohen, it's urgent. NO voice mail, no secretary, I need to speak to him in person. Now" By the time he was done with his speech, he once again hears the beep and clicks of his call being transferred to voicemail hell. "Hello, this is Sandy Cohen. I'm in a meeting or out of the office right now. Please leave your name and number. I'll return your call as soon as I can" By the time the message was done, Seth had slammed the phone down. He'd already heard it seven times today. He knew it by heart. Dialing another number, he reached Sandy's cell phone. Same message. Next he tried his mother's cell, only to get an out of area message. Frustrated, he slammed the phone down in the cradle.  
  
"Think, Seth, think. You've left messages for him on office and cell, can't reach Mom. Ryan's due in court in..about 90 minutes. Figure 25 minutes drive time to the courthouse. An hour, max, to work on this. Keys, need car keys, phone. Transportation is set. Still need directions, parking. What else?" A whirlwind of activity reached to all levels of the Cohen house, accompanied by a constant stream of "Think. Gotta think. No way will I let this happen. Why now, what happened?"  
  
Ryan slumped on a bench in the intake center. Locked down, accompanied by other juveniles, surrounded by police, bailiffs and parole officers. Same old people, same old smells, same tenseness as usual. His side of the gate wanted to leave, but the officers wanted to leave just as bad. They just wanted the juveniles to pay for their trouble first. He figured you could go to any courthouse, and the smells and feeling would be the same. Yeah, Orange County Courthouse was just like San Bernardino County Courthouse. Newport Beach and Chino, made no difference. Some people had more, so someone had to have less. That's just the way things worked out. Money, time, pull, whatever- right now- he didn't have any of it. And right now, he really needed it. He could feel himself closing up, setting limits on physical space, eye contact. Pulling in. He'd been more relaxed lately, at the Cohen's. Even with his problems there, he still let people get closer, let himself care for them and allowing them to care about him.  
  
This day was not turning out well. Work, well, he was about to miss his shift. By the time this was done, he might be missing his job. He looked up at the clock on the wall, only three minutes had passed since his last time check. His thoughts turned to Seth. He felt bad that Seth had been there, hell, another 2 minutes and neither of them would have been there. It just might have been easier to be arrested at work instead of in front of Seth. Maybe. But then again, he couldn't think of anyplace easy to be arrested in. He closed his eyes and tried not to think of anything. Keep cool, relax. Sandy will get here. Cool, relax, Sandy. Cool, relax, Sandy. It wasn't working, his pulse still pounded through his veins, he still kept seeing doors slamming behind him, and jail hallways open in front of him. The shocked look on Seth's face, the experience of another ride in the back seat of a cruiser. Behind the cage, handcuffed, arrested.  
  
"Atwood, Ryan Atwood" the bailiff called into the detention area.  
  
"Yeah" Ryan looked up. Thoughts screamed through his mind, yet his body moved slowly, deliberately, minimally. This was not the time to bring any attention to himself, let someone else yell and scream at the bailiffs. Court Officials paid back trouble by delays, lost paperwork, missed calls.  
  
"Your attorney hasn't arrived yet. If he doesn't arrive by three, we'll have to start processing you for juvenile hall. Court closes down at 4."  
  
Seth leapt up the steps into Juvenile Court. A glance at his watch showed only 35 minutes to Ryan's court time. Time was racing and still no call back from his Dad. Sliding into the entry way a la Kramer, he glanced around trying to figure out his next step. In front of him was a line of people heading for a metal detector. Standing in line, Seth's agitation rises, he can't hold still, bouncing on his toes, he peers past the line, trying to decide on his next stop. Finally, Seth is next.  
  
"Turn off all cell phones, remove all keys, wallets, change and metal objects from your person and place them in the tray" the officer drones. Seth piles keys, wallet, change and cell phone in the tray and walks through the detector- bzzzzz. Two officers look up at the annoying sound. "Please check your pockets." Seth removes more objects from his pockets and tries again. Still buzzing, the officers pull him aside and ask him to remove his watch, belt buckle and shoes. Finally clearing the metal detector, the wall clock shows only 15 minutes to Ryan's court time. Grabbing his belongings and stuffing them back into pockets, he forgets to turn his cell phone on.  
  
"Juvenile court?" he asks one of his former tormentors. The officer points down the hallway "Through there, turn right at the end. The bailiff there can direct you further."  
  
Racing down the hallway, Seth appears in front of the bailiff, out of breath and very agitated. His never calm appearance is even more frantic. The clock is ticking and still nothing from Sandy, nothing from Kirsten.  
  
Used to agitation, the bailiff quietly looks up at him "Name?"  
  
"Seth Cohen"  
  
The bailiff looks at his list "Not here."  
  
"No wait, I mean my name is Seth. I'm here for Ryan Atwood. He was picked up today."  
  
"He's here. We're waiting to hear from his attorney."  
  
"Can I see him? I have to talk to him. He lives with me. I mean he lives at my house. My Dad's his attorney, but we can't reach him"  
  
Shaking his head, "Only attorneys are allowed in the intake center. Once he's processed you can see him during visiting hours from 2 to 5, starting tomorrow. No visitors today. Juvenile Hall is next door"  
  
Seth turns away, the adrenalin leaving his body in a torrent. Drained, he stumbles to a bench and slumps down. Running through his mind is Ryan's face when he walked in the house and saw the cops, when he was handcuffed, when he was placed in the back of the police car. And Seth did nothing. Couldn't even get a sentence out.  
  
Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earthbound misfit, I.  
  
Sandy Cohen slams a stack of folders on the desk. "I can't believe that meeting took so long. Rachel, I thought I was going to be the one committing crimes, against both our clients and their clients. That half hour meet and greet turned into five hours of debate" He reaches to his desk for his cell phone, turning it on as he continues "Let me talk to my legal aide, we can research some of it tonight. I thought you promised regular working hours and weekends off?" Looking down, he notices both the cell phone and the desk phone promising new and exciting messages for him. "Hang on, let me just get these and we'll talk strategy." He punches in his message code on the desk phone as he idly flips through folders. As the first message comes through, Sandy straightens up, folders now forgotten. He checks his watch, fumbles through his desk, obviously getting frantic.  
  
Rachel paused by the doorway, the apparent difference in Sandy's attitude holding her attention. What was merely irritation is quickly becoming rage. As he continues to listen through several messages, Sandy gestures to her to wait.  
  
Slamming the phone down, Sandy turns to Rachel. "Why wasn't I given messages by my son? Why weren't his calls forwarded to the conference room?"  
  
Startled by his vehemence, Rachel looks puzzled. "But that's our policy. No family interruptions during meetings. Everyone here follows that, even the partners. "  
  
"And the calls from the probation department? Why didn't those get forwarded? You know I still have clients that count on me."  
  
"But Sandy, those aren't Partridge, Savage and Kahn clients. Not yet at least, we aren't set up yet for them. There are contracts to be done before you can work on them here. It's all about legalities and responsibilities. The court has you under contract, not this company. Once the paperwork is done, they're your pro bono clients. Until then PSK can't touch them." Rachel is still puzzled, Sandy is getting more agitated with her answers.  
  
"Go, Leave. I'm kicking you out now." Sandy turns from her, reaching for the phone. Dialing a number from his recent notes he drums his desk impatiently. "Hello, I'm the attorney for Ryan Atwood. I have a message that he has a court appearance at 3 pm. Yes. No, I can't be there by 3 pm. I'm still at the office, can you hold it off for 30 minutes? No, I haven't seen the warrant yet. Is there a reason for the unreasonable rush on a court date?"  
  
Sandy slumps at his desk, unconsciously mimicking Ryan's posture at the Intake Center. "No, I understand. Yes. I'll be there at 8 am. Will his probation officer be there? Court time of 10 am? Yes, I can make that too." Sandy slowly hangs up the phone. He can only imagine how Seth will feel when he tells him that Ryan has to spend at least the night in Juvenile Hall, maybe months. Violation of Parole and a new Parole Officer. Ryan may end up serving all of the time for his original auto theft. And Ryan, well, he thinks he can figure out how Ryan will feel. Abandoned, hurt, angry. The adjectives continue to roll through his mind. Even if he can spring Ryan in the morning, he's not sure how this will affect him.  
  
Ice is forming on the tips of my wings  
  
Unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything  
  
The Bailiff calls into the Intake Center "Atwood, Ryan Atwood"  
  
Ryan turns from his concentration on the wall clock. 3 pm has come and gone, and he's still sitting here. No Sandy, no court time, no chance to explain.  
  
"Up. Time to finish processing you. We finally reached your attorney, he can't make it. You belong to the Juvenile Court System now. Enjoy your stay at Juvenile Hall."  
  
No navigator to guide my way home  
  
Unladened, empty and turned to stone 


	3. Hey you part 3 Dogs of War

Top of Form The Dogs of War:  
  
Delicate Sound of Thunder: Pink Floyd  
  
Invisible transfers, long distance calls,  
  
Hollow laughter in marble halls  
  
Steps have been taken, a silent uproar  
  
Has unleashed the dogs of war  
  
You can't stop what has begun  
  
Signed, sealed, they deliver oblivion  
  
We all have a dark side, to say the least  
  
And dealing in death is the nature of the beast  
  
Seth slowly made his way out of the courthouse. Amazingly for him, he didn't even notice the stairs and ramps outside-perfect for 'boarding. To not notice such a paradise of structures indicated how upset he was. Reaching temporary safety inside the car, he broke down. His whole world had become distorted, changed. The magnetic poles of life had shifted, no longer was there just Seth in one direction and his parental units in another. Another person had an impact on his everyday life. Not just an exciting occasional whirlwind like his grandfather, but an everyday force that somehow altered his perceptions of how to see the world and react to life. And now he was gone. Locked up, taken away. And Seth was powerless to help him.  
  
Kirsten sighed and groaned. Finally done with meetings with contractors she was on her way home. The last set of contractors required a meeting at their current site- in the foothills of San Bernadino county. They were doing a good job at that site, they looked like the best choice. Worth the trip to the outlands. Good thing coming out was against traffic, she wasn't sure if she could handle rush hour tonight. She reached for her cell phone- that site had been in a dead spot, time to catch up on calls, give Seth a heads up for dinner and see if Sandy needed a ride home. She was sure the office had more work set up for her, maybe she'd try calling home before getting the messages off the phone. Punching in the home number, she was slightly surprised. Seth was supposed to be home. Maybe he'd taken Ryan to work. Her and Sandy had driven in together this morning to continue yet another *what to do with the boys* talk. If Seth was already out, she'd have him pick up dinner. That would give her a chance to drop the latest figures off at work. Now, to see if Seth remembered his cell phone, that boy sure had a hard time keeping in contact sometimes. Absently she wondered if maybe she should get Ryan a cell phone too- just for emergencies of course. That might give them a better idea where they both were sometimes. But to get him to accept it, that would take some maneuvering. Maybe if she said it was for her to keep track of Seth. Taking care of Seth was the best way to reach Ryan. Trying Seth's cell, she was disappointed when the voice mail came on. Trying not to sound upset, she left a please call me message.  
  
Now to reach Sandy, or messages first? This was Sandy's first week at the new law office, he might need cheering up- Sandy it was. Kirsten almost dropped the phone at the explosion answering Sandy's phone.  
  
"Kirsten! I've been trying to reach you. Where are you? Have you heard from Seth? Are you home yet?"  
  
Puzzled, Kirsten tried to answer each of Sandy's questions. "The last meeting was in a dead space, I'm still on my way home."  
  
Sandy however gave her no chance to answer before he started in with explanations. "Kirsten, Seth called today. He couldn't reach me- but the police picked up Ryan. He's down at juvenile hall. I haven't been able to reach Seth. Have you heard from him? Are you at home yet?"  
  
"Oh, God. When did this happen? I haven't picked up my messages yet. Why did they pick Ryan up? Another fight? You can get him out tonight, right?"  
  
Kirsten heard a long sigh come down through the phone. Her heart sank. That did not sound good.  
  
"No, I didn't get the messages from Seth or the court in time. I'll explain more later. Can you pick me up, Seth still has the car."  
  
Arriving at Partridge, Savage and Kahn, Kirsten stared at the office building. Seth's words came back to her. Yes, somehow, it did remind her of Wolfram and Hart from that TV show. Too many late nights working, now she was seeing reality in TV shows. She prayed the building wouldn't suck the soul out of Sandy- God, now she was sounding like a TV show. Then Sandy slid into the passenger seat and reached across to kiss her.  
  
"Thanks, do you mind stopping off at the Juvenile Center? I want to see if I can get some answers in person."  
  
Kirsten nodded. "Have you heard from Seth? How did he find out about Ryan? What did happen anyway?"  
  
Sandy stared ahead at the traffic. "Seth was there when Ryan was arrested, his messages were a bit frantic, even for him. The last one just said he was going to the Center, no messages since then. I checked caller ID, he was using his cell phone so I don't know why we can't reach him now." Sandy paused, the explanations were getting more difficult. The blame was on his shoulders.  
  
I was in a meeting, his calls weren't forwarded to me. Apparently company policy is no family calls during meetings. They also didn't allow in calls from Ryan's Probation officer. He's not a P,S and K client yet, so they weren't allowed to *interfere* with business. The meeting took too long, I missed his court time for today. They had to send him over to the Juvenile Center. He'll be there for at least tonight. Aahhh Kirsten, he might have to do his full time, he was arrested on multiple Probation Violations. His new PO was upset we hadn't kept him up to date. We may not get him out." Sandy turned to Kirsten "I'm worried about both boys."  
  
Kirsten's heart fell as Sandy talked. Ryan was in the last place he needed to be and Seth was there when it happened.  
  
Sandy pointed across the dash, "Turn into here. Court is over, parking should be easier on this side."  
  
As she turned into the parking lot, Kirsten felt dread again. The first time she was here, Ryan had just burned down the model home. She was still upset that Sandy had brought him home, worried that he might cause trouble for her family. Seth had talked her into the visit. Even if she didn't want anything to do with him, he had still tried to save her from another inmate, knowing it could only cause him problems. The last visit was applying to be Ryan's guardian. One bad trip, one good. She was sure this one would end up on the bad trip column.  
  
"Sandy?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"Sandy, isn't that our car?"  
  
Sandy's head came up from shuffling through his briefcase. As they pulled up next to the car, they could see Seth in the driver's seat, head against the steering wheel. Sandy jumped out before the car stopped. "Seth, Seth. Answer me, Seth." He opened the door, reaching in to hold his son. "Seth, son, it's OK. Don't worry, we'll do all we can. It's not over yet."  
  
Kirsten reached the car, she knelt down to look into Seth's face "Darling, I know you did all you could. All of us will do all we can to help Ryan. Let's go home now." Seth's body shuddered, his eyes closed. He didn't answer either parent, but allowed them to manipulate him out of the car.  
  
Kirsten looked over at Sandy "I'll take him back in the SUV, you take the car. Seth, you come with me. Let's get you home."  
  
At the words *home* Seth shuddered again, his mind was still stuck in his thoughts, his self blame. It was all his fault. None of this would be happening if he hadn't made Ryan go along with his plans. He had pulled the *brother* card and it had worked. For Seth. It only got Ryan in more and deeper trouble.  
  
The ride home was silent. Kirsten tried once to talk to her son, but knew it was a lost cause. Seth was usually a talkative person, his mind and his speech didn't always seem connected- making sense in the long run, but if you only heard one or two sentences you were lost. The few times he was quiet though, nothing could get him to open up until he was ready.  
  
Several hours after arriving home, Kirsten walked into the darkened poolhouse. "Seth, are you in here?" Dinner had been a disaster, Seth wouldn't eat, wouldn't talk, wouldn't even look at her or Sandy. Sandy had given up on conversation after a few unsuccessful attempts. Food had been left uneaten, just pushed around on plates. It seemed more humane just to let the family retire to lick their wounds than to continue the meal. Kirsten reached over and flicked on a light, startling a bit as the light allowed her to see Seth sitting in a chair.  
  
She knelt in front of him "Seth, come on sweetheart, talk to me. You have to talk to someone. Give us a clue here. I know you're upset, but talking really will help. Sitting in the dark won't bring him back."  
  
Seth handed Kirsten his cell phone. His voice wavered "I left it off, I forgot to turn it back on after going into the courthouse. I got your messages, but I also got one from Ryan. He blames me too, he doesn't want to see me anymore. I got him into all this trouble. All his *violations* were my fault. I couldn't let him be, I made him come with me."  
  
Kirsten stared at the phone, hitting the keys for messages, she passed through hers and Sandy's, finding one from an unknown number.  
  
"Hey, Seth, they let me make a call. I don't feel like talking to your parents right now. Anyway, don't worry, I got this covered. I'm fine. Seth, I can't let you visit me here. It's not gonna work out. I. I. well, anyway, I said no visitors. It'll just be easier." 


	4. Hey You, part 4 Another Brick in the Wal...

Another brick in the wall Pink Floyd  
  
I don't need no arms around me  
  
And I don't need no drugs to calm me.  
  
I have seen the writing on the wall.  
  
Don't think I need anything at all.  
  
No! Don't think I'll need anything at all.  
  
All in all it was all just bricks in the wall.  
  
All in all you were all just bricks in the wall.  
  
"Atwood, Ryan Atwood." The call echoed down the hallway of Orange County Juvenile Center. The blond sitting on a bench turned his head slightly at the call. He closed his eyes, held his breath and deliberately stood up. From his actions, he appeared unwilling to respond. "Hurry up Atwood, we don't have all night."  
  
Approaching the guard, Ryan mentally geared himself for more bad times, it was always bad times. After today, he didn't think good news was a possibility. Processing had been depressing, this was his third time going through it. Once in Chino, twice now in Orange County. It got worse each time, there were more charges in his record, more past history to be scrutinized. Each addition to his file made the guards look at him more closely, more aware of his potential for causing them trouble.  
  
"Line up over there, hands behind your back" the guard intoned.  
  
Ryan joined a group of four other inmates. GQ was not in sight, all five were wearing the clothes de jour of the OC Juvenile Center; blue coveralls. The guard came down the line, checking ID bands against his clipboard. After the ID Band was checked, handcuffs were attached. "All right guys, let's go."  
  
Ryan thought back to the Intake Center, he'd been given one call- it was supposed to be to his attorney. He called Seth instead. He wasn't sure if he wanted the voice mail or Seth himself, but it worked out better with voice mail.  
  
"Hey, Seth, they let me make a call. I don't feel like talking to your parents right now. Anyway, don't worry, I got this covered. I'm fine. Seth, I can't let you visit me here. It's not gonna work out. I. I. well, anyway, I said no visitors. It'll just be easier."  
  
Yeah, it was better, just make the break at once, the way this was going he wasn't going to get out for a while. He didn't think Seth would take it well at first, but he'd recover. Summer was finally talking to him, he could turn to her. School was starting, yeah there was plenty to take his mind off of a loser from Chino.  
  
Next would be to ask for a new attorney, he should be able to get a Public Defender again. That would take care of Sandy, no need for him to take time off from his new job. His case didn't fit in with the new office. He was sure he could come up with an excuse for needing a different attorney. Yeah, two out of four taken care of.  
  
Kirsten, well she would have no reason to visit him either. She wouldn't have come the last time if Seth hadn't talked her into it, no Seth, so no Kirsten. Three out of four.  
  
Marissa. Well she shouldn't hear about this for a bit, by the time she heard he'd be in the system so deep he could play the no visitors rule for sure. All it took was a fight and you were only allowed contact with your attorney. And fights were easy to arrange.  
  
Yeah, he'd be laughing at how easy his life was to fix right now if it wasn't so depressing. It was calming though to get rid of the baggage of other people. No worries, no cares, all he had to do was live through this. And living wasn't really a big concern. He'd either make it or not.  
  
He almost bumped into the guy in front of him. The group had stopped without his noticing. "All right guys, first stop. The counselors want to talk to each of you before you hit Juvie. Take a seat, they'll get to all of you."  
  
Five blue clad teenagers dropped onto a bench. Boring, what the hell was some do-good counselor going to tell them about juvie. The perspective was different on their side, they had no idea what went on in the Hall itself. Ryan had been through this the first time. All he had to do was promise that if he had problems with other inmates he'd tell a guard. As if that would solve the problem. Yeah, just turn on the Sunday School face and look innocent. That should do it. Worked in Chino juvie, it had worked in school before that too.  
  
"Atwood, you're first. Turn around, let's get the cuffs off. We're watching, so no trouble. Got it?"  
  
Ryan took a second to get ready to enter the room. Look innocent, look like you really believe everything they tell you. It'd be over in seconds.  
  
He stepped into the room, a hand waved over a record-"Sit, give me second." He took the chair in front of the desk, looking around the room. Not much there, a few landscapes on the wall, a few diplomas or some such. A desk, a chair. A person behind the desk. Boring, the room was boring. This counselor stuff was boring. You just promised to behave and you were out of there. Why did they even bother, nothing came out of it.  
  
The record fell to the desk. "OK Ryan, this has been interesting reading. Let's see if I get this right. You were arrested in Chino with your brother Trey for car theft?" Ryan nodded at the pause. "Your mother threw you out?" Ryan got still, keeping that innocent look on his face, he nodded.  
  
"Your Public Defender, a Sandy Cohen, took you home for the night? To Newport Beach? There are suggestions of a fight the next night, but no report was filed, by the victim or your attorney?" Ryan kept quiet on that one, no report no proof. Hell, he wasn't going to make their job easier.  
  
"Next, you ran away from the Cohen's. Then, let's see, another fight at a restaurant and, oh yes, an arson charge that was eventually dropped. A house was burned down during a fight causing a lot of damage. Your name ended up on three reports right there. Three fights in one weekend even, are you trying for a record?" Ryan had stopped answering at all, this was getting too uncomfortable.  
  
"A fight in juvenile hall the next day. Another report. I'm seeing a history of a lot of fights here. Do you want me to go on? All right Ryan, let's get this straight. Fights do not solve problems. They rarely fix anything and in your case, they make things worse. The way your record reads you only have two choices. Your best choice is to go to counseling and anger management classes, given your past history, you'll be doing that until you turn eighteen. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"  
  
"OK, Ryan. I'd suggest you take me up on this. You don't have much time here. Your other choice is CYA, California Youth Authority. We can hold you there past eighteen if we want. Depends on you. And once you start CYA, you'll more than likely continue into prison."  
  
"Tell you what, I'll give you until tomorrow morning to answer that one. Your Probation Officer has a meeting set up with your attorney tomorrow morning, if they come to an understanding on your next step, we should be able to squeeze you into a court time shortly after that. I have to have an answer for them on where you want to go by 8 am. My schedule is clear at 7 am, I'll expect you back in here then."  
  
"Next, you told the Intake officers you didn't want visitors, do you want to explain that? I see that in your last trip to juvenile, both Seth and Kirsten Cohen visited. You realize asking for no visitors will only allow your attorney to see you?"  
  
Ryan didn't answer, he was still working on the threat of counseling. He'd just figured out how to make it through his time, and this changed things. He had never liked talking to others, figured if they couldn't see it themselves, there was no reason to tell them. And if they did see it, there was no need to discuss it. Counseling sounded, well, painful. This day was ending up worse and worse. Counseling seemed to be full of talking about feelings, why you did things, how to change. Things he didn't want to even think about let alone discuss with a stranger. Dr. Phil type stuff. Or maybe in his case, Jennie Jones. But was it worse than CYA? Compared to CYA, juvie was kindergarten. Car theft shouldn't even have brought CYA into the picture.  
  
"OK, Ryan, I guess you have enough to think about. We'll go over that tomorrow morning. I expect you back in here at 7 am. If we finish in time, that should give you a few minutes for your attorney before his meeting. Do you have any questions for now? OK, let's get you out of here then." 


	5. Hey you, chapter 5 More Dogs of War

The dogs of war don't negotiate  
  
The dogs of war won't capitulate,  
  
They will take and you will give,  
  
And you must die so that they may live  
  
You can knock at any door,  
  
But wherever you go, you know they've been there before  
  
Well winners can lose and things can get strained  
  
But whatever you change, you know the dogs remain.  
  
Yes, we know. I don't own them. I keep forgetting to add that in here. Not sure if Fox really does anymore either since they seem to have gotten a life of their own outside of TV. I don't own the lyrics I've been using either. I spend enough time with them though, I think they own me.  
  
All right, face it. This counselor guy scared him. He knew too much, he knew which buttons to push. CYA was no joke. Counseling scared him though, terrified would be more accurate. He didn't want to give up control to another person, to explain his thoughts, his actions. But to be pushed into a corner didn't sit well either. His first reaction was just to say no. Refuse to decide and make someone else do the deed. His decisions hadn't been good lately. Yeah, his luck it would be Sandy with his we're cut from the same cloth attitude. He wanted Sandy out of his life right now. He wanted all the Cohen's out. All he'd gotten was more trouble with them around. He smacked the wall next to his bed thinking of the Cohen's. If he hadn't gone along with Seth, if he hadn't let what they thought about him make a difference. Damn them. It wasn't how things were supposed to be, you weren't supposed to care about what anyone else thought. All you were supposed to do was look out for yourself. Hadn't his own family taught him that, when did he forget that vital fact of life, when did he change?  
  
Could he really get sent to CYA? Could he make it through two years there? Just think of the education he'd get there. Nothing like that prep school Kirsten thought he should go to. Yeah, he'd learn all kinds of subjects not in the usual high school curriculum. Things that might be useful once he was out. CYA was in Chino, ending up in the city this journey started in. Hell, he'd know people there; it was the Chino equivalent of the public school system for most of his old neighborhood. The counselor was right, first step to prison. Ryan tossed, no closer to a decision than he had been hours before. Anger management, what did that mean? He gave up on the bunk and started pacing. As bad as it was, life in Chino before that first arrest was a piece of cake compared to this. Damn, it was all Trey's fault. If he ever caught that bastard brother of his. Ryan paused. Yeah, here he was getting angrier and angrier at everyone in his life, and he was supposed to be thinking about anger control. Maybe he did need to learn something. He dropped back on the bunk, holding his head in his hands. Eight hours and nothing. No closer to a decision. He was meeting that counselor soon. He had to come up with something.  
  
A buzzer rang through the cell, 6 am. Only another hour. Ryan stood up, he had to come up with something soon. It sounded trite, but one way or another he had to decide on his future within the next hour.  
  
Sandy rolled over. The alarm clock was finally going off. Six am. He didn't think he'd slept at all, he'd swear he saw every hour turn over. Last night had been a failure in how to deal with one son, today he'd have to deal with another son. Ryan was like a son in his mind, it felt right to call him that. Never mind what Caleb thought, he was good for the family. It just felt right to have two sons. Kirsten's hand rubbed his back. She was awake too. He sighed, Seth was probably still awake. The last time he'd wandered through the house he could see the light on under his door. He'd knocked, but Seth hadn't answered him. By the time he'd opened the door the light was off and all he could see of his son was a lump hiding under the covers. He was considered a brilliant attorney, or so he'd heard whispered in hallways- yet he couldn't even talk to his own son about yesterday.  
  
"Kirsten, should I talk to Seth before I see Ryan? Or should I start with Ryan? And that message, what should we do about that?"  
  
Kirsten sighed. Right now Seth was still too upset. He blamed himself for getting Ryan into trouble. He blamed Sandy for taking the new job that caused him to miss Ryan's court time, for Ryan having to stay overnight in Juvenile Hall. He blamed Kirsten for being out of touch, for not being UberMom and able to save his world. And he blamed Ryan for shutting him out. Ryan's message would haunt them for quite a while she was sure. And then there was Ryan, she could guess why he was chasing Seth away. He hadn't been happy the last time for them to show up in juvie. It was easier for him to deal with that place without the pull of Seth reminding him of what could have been. She was sure that was the reason behind that message. Sandy was their only link to him right now, she'd let him take care of Ryan. She'd work on Seth.  
  
"Sandy, why don't you concentrate on Ryan. I'll talk to Seth. I don't think he'll listen to either one of us yet, but you need to get Ryan out of that place. Soon. I don't care what it takes; I don't want him in there. Call me after you talk to the probation officer and we'll decide on the next step." She sighed again. Life with teenagers was always tricky but this was more than the usual level of difficulty. If they didn't take care it could destroy their family, all four of them.  
  
Kirsten knocked on Seth's door. "Seth, I need to talk to you. Can you please come downstairs?" She heard a muffled growl from the other side of the door. "Seth, I need to speak with you. I'll give you some time to wake up- but I want you downstairs by 8. Got that?" The answering muffled growl sounded more like a yes than a no, or at least she hoped it did. She took it for a yes and continued on down the stairs.  
  
Looking around the kitchen, Kirsten decided she didn't feel like cooking. She didn't really feel like eating. Just coffee would do. She sighed, a talk with a disturbed teenager fueled only with caffeine. She wasn't sure if she was up to this conversation under normal circumstances. With that breakfast on top of a night with no sleep, it might turn into a catastrophe.  
  
Sandy drove into the parking lot of Juvenile Hall. He was early for his meeting with the probation officer, but he hoped to get some time in with Ryan before the meeting. On the drive in, he'd left a message at Partridge, Savage and Kahn that he wouldn't be in today. He'd miss the second meeting with some clients, but family was more important. No matter what PSK said. And if they didn't like it, he'd go back to the Public Defenders office. They were ready to take him back whenever; all he had to do was ask. He reached for his briefcase, ready to start his round of meetings and court time. He hesitated, dropping his head down on the steering wheel, not realizing he was imitating Seth's position of the night before. He felt drained, run ragged and full of blame for yesterday's events. If only he hadn't taken the PSK job, he would have been available when the police came, he might have been home, and he would have gotten the warrant in time to talk it over with the PO before they even arrived at the house. The paperwork wouldn't have been delayed traveling from office to office, calls would have gone through. He would have known, he could have been there. Seth was right to blame him, it was his fault. He thought back to the Ryan he first met and the Ryan of yesterday morning. He lifted his head; he'd lost the time for a meeting with Ryan. Time to fix his other mistakes, if he could.  
  
Ryan held his hands behind his back, waiting for the guard to read his ID and put the cuffs on. Almost 7 am, almost time for his meeting. He still hadn't come up with a final decision, this was cutting it close. His eyes were troubled, a night without sleep, unable to eat this morning and now a meeting with a guy who scared him. He was one of the few people who might be able read him. This counselor should get together with Kirsten, between the two of them he wouldn't know which way to turn. On second thought, he shouldn't even think that, it might happen. If he decided to go with counseling and anger management, didn't they usually bring in parents or guardians for part of it? If the Cohen's let him stay, that would mean Kirsten would show up at some of his counseling sessions. They'd gang up on him and who knew what he'd tell them or agree to do. As he followed his train of thought, he realized he had made up his mind. Counseling it was. Might as well get this over with, just making a decision was a relief. He wasn't looking forward to it, but it had to start sometime.  
  
Entering the counselor's office, Ryan felt apprehensive. It was OK to make a decision in his mind, but now he had to come out with it. And live up to the bargain he'd made.  
  
"Ahh, Ryan, right on time. Are you ready to talk some more? I have the paperwork here for your probation officer. You just need to come to a decision, and then I can pass it on to him for his meeting this morning. Do you have any more questions?"  
  
Ryan sat for a minute, holding his head still, his eyes looked around the room, and he chewed his lower lip. "I'll do it."  
  
"Which one, Ryan? Are you willing to attend counseling classes? "  
  
At the nodded response the counselor stood up. "OK, I need you to sign this. Your probation violations may keep you in here for a bit, but signing this should get you out of here sooner. Your attorney will go over the paperwork too. Between him and the probation officer, they'll come up with a schedule for you. Here in the Hall, we'll be able to schedule your sessions quite easily. When you get released, your grades at school will be checked and you'll be set up with meetings with the probation department and counseling sessions. Drug and alcohol testing is mandatory also. You do realize that, don't you? You should be able to continue with a job, but understand that we will stop by there also. Your boss will be told."  
  
Ryan shrugged; this was getting out of hand. All he wanted to do was have the world ignore him and now he was being dragged back into it. He was beginning to regret agreeing to anything. It sounded like everyone would know, school, work, home. No privacy. His life was turning into the pool house, all those clear windows for anyone to see into him. He started thinking he should say no, change his mind. This was going much further than he wanted. A pause in the one-sided conversation finally gave him a chance to speak. "Umm, can I change my mind? I'm not so sure I want to do all this stuff."  
  
"Ryan, this won't be easy. You'll have to work at it. Learning to control your anger will take effort. Your school counselor also noted that you have difficulty discussing problems. Going to counseling does not mean you can sit silent for an hour, you have to participate. This really is for you, Ryan; we don't do this just to fill our time. I don't want to make it so hard you fail, that's not my goal. I also don't want to see you back here in a blue jumpsuit and I don't want to see you in Pelican Bay in ten years. I think you have a chance. The question is, are you willing to hurt the people in your life because you don't want to try? Going to CYA will not only affect you, what about the Cohens? I understand their son tried to visit you yesterday. Do you want to just drop out of his life?"  
  
Ouch, that one really hurt. Ryan thought about Seth. Seth was closer to him than his own brother. He'd only known him for a few weeks, yet Ryan felt responsible for him. But a clean break now, that might be what Seth needed. And Kirsten, she'd defended him to her father and those newpsie bitches. Even after he'd burned down the model home. Yeah, he'd caused her a lot of trouble too. And Sandy, hell, he'd defended him against everyone. Ryan still didn't understand that, there was no reason for Sandy's actions and it confused him. He looked up at the counselor, once again biting his lower lip, considering his choices. "Can I have you call my Mom? I'll move back in with her."  
  
"Sorry, this deal only works if you live with the Cohen's. Face it, the Atwood family structure is not conducive to intensive probation." The counselor stood up and walked around his desk. He leaned back against it in front of Ryan. "Talk to me Ryan, Why don't you want to stay there? From all outward appearances, you couldn't do better. What reasons do you have to want to leave them?"  
  
Ryan jumped up and started pacing the floor. The guard outside peered in at his sudden actions, the counselor waving the guard off.  
  
"Come on, look at you. You're not comfortable with your own decision. Are you sure you want to cut the Cohen's off? Look, we can set it up temporarily with the Cohen's for now. It can be changed later. We'll give it 30 days. Then you can make up your mind."  
  
Ryan stopped his pacing He was exhausted, his mind traveling paths he didn't want to follow. He stared at the floor "Yeah, whatever. Set it up. Do whatever you want."  
  
Sandy entered the juvenile probation department. Searching the name plates on the desks, he located the desk he needed. Nodding at the officer sitting there, he held out his hand "Hello, I'm Sandy Cohen. I'm Ryan Atwood's attorney and guardian. We have an 8 am meeting to discuss his probation issues."  
  
"Please, sit down Mr. Cohen. I'm glad we could finally meet. I just received some new paperwork on Ryan. This boy certainly has amassed a large amount of paperwork in a short period of time. We have a bit of a new perspective; he's been talking with one of our juvenile hall counselors. It seems he's agreed to counseling sessions. If we can come to an agreement on that it will go a long way with the judge later this morning."  
  
Sandy's jaw dropped during the short speech by the probation officer- Ryan? Talking? To a counselor? Did they have the paperwork mixed up?  
  
"I'm sorry, we are talking about Ryan Atwood? Blond hair, blue eyes. 16 years old? Arrested in Chino for auto theft? Is it possible you have him mixed up with someone else?"  
  
The officer looked down at his paperwork "Yes, that's him. According to this paperwork, Ryan agreed this morning to counseling and anger management classes. He signed it pending your approval as his attorney and guardian. We just need to hammer out the details, and then it goes before the judge. If we can come to an agreement on counseling, we can discuss the probation violations and their consequences next. Are you ready to work out a schedule for him? This counseling won't be easy for him or your family, but it will be possible. The whole family needs to be involved in this type of counseling." The officer looked Sandy in the eyes, watching for his reaction "Are you still willing to be Ryan's guardian? This does depend on his home life too. Unfortunately with his family's history, this deal is not possible with Mrs. Atwood in charge of Ryan."  
  
Seth walked into the kitchen, shocked at his mother's appearance. Kirsten had her head down, sobbing quietly over her coffee. She hadn't heard him come down yet, he was seeing his mother in a different light. Unaware she had an audience, she had dropped her guard, was actually crying. Seth had never seen her that disheartened. It just wasn't parental, it was- well- human. He hadn't realized she was this upset also. He came up behind her, placing an arm across her back, resting his head on her shoulder. Silently, he stood next to her. Without saying a word, they somehow communicated. It wasn't perfect, but it worked for now. Seth knew she'd fight for him, for her family. And family was not just Seth and Sandy, it now included Ryan. She knew he'd try his best. That was all she could ask, nobody was perfect, and perfect was boring anyway. She giggled a bit through the tears. The idea of a perfect family sounded too Brady Bunch, just not possible in the real world. 


	6. Hey You, part 6

Hey You. Pink Floyd.  
  
Hey you, standing in the road  
  
Always doing what you're told,  
  
Can you help me?  
  
Hey you, out there beyond the wall,  
  
Breaking bottles in the hall,  
  
Can you help me?  
  
Hey you, don't tell me there's no hope at all  
  
Together we stand, divided we fall.  
  
Sandy shuffled paperwork. This waiting was making him nervous. He was the attorney, his client was supposed to be the nervous one not him. Yet sitting here waiting for Ryan to arrive was nervewracking. His meeting with Ryan's new probation officer had gone fairly well, now he had to straighten out a few final things with Ryan. A time had been set for a meeting with a judge this afternoon. The probation department was hopeful that he could get released today, depending on the counselor's report. Counseling? How had they gotten Ryan to agree to that? Sandy was still surprised. Amazed even. He did think it was a good idea in the long run, but he wasn't sure if forcing Ryan to do anything would be possible. For a kid who appeared to agree to most suggestions, Ryan had a way of still doing his own thing in his own way. To your face, he'd agree- but somehow things just didn't work out the way they were planned.  
  
Deep in thought, Sandy didn't hear the initial noises of incoming guard and inmate. He startled and looked up to see an exhausted Ryan standing in front of him.  
  
A "Hey" was uttered as Ryan dropped into the seat across from him. Body language was a definite don't ask, won't talk mode.  
  
Sandy looked intently at him. He appeared exhausted and worn out, but it was definitely Ryan. But it was a Ryan that wouldn't look at him. After a moment Sandy gave up on a personal response and found the counseling agreement in his stack of papers. He slid it across the table towards Ryan. "First, let's talk about this, Ryan. I think it's a good idea for you. I've already discussed it with Kirsten, and we're willing to go along. It'll still be up to you though." Sandy sighed, "Come on Ryan, you have to talk to me. I'm not just your attorney; I'm also your guardian. I want whatever is best for you, but I have to know what you want." Sandy reached out for Ryan, but just wasn't surprised when he twisted out of his reach and turned away from him. As Ryan turned away, Sandy dropped his head. Sandy still felt guilty. He should have stopped this before it got this far, he should have been available. He was the attorney, he should have been able to fix it. As Ryan's guardian he wasn't doing such a hot job of guardianship, was he? Sandy sat there for a moment tapping his pen against the table. This wasn't going well, and he knew if he didn't fix it and fix it good he'd be in deep shit at home. "OK, I spoke with your PO, he thinks we can get you home this afternoon. We have some more paperwork to straighten out and a court date this afternoon. But it's basically all set; you'll be back in Newport by dinner tonight."  
  
Across the table, Ryan dropped his head in his hands. He swallowed deeply several times, finally clearing his throat to speak. "Yeah, well, that counseling stuff..they have this guy here. We talked." He turned in the chair so he was facing towards Sandy. His fingers were busy poking at the scratches on the table; his eyes followed his fingers, never looking up. "I agreed. But I changed my mind." Ryan finally looked up, looking Sandy in the face for the first time. "I'll stay with Dawn. I thought about it, I need to do this with my family. I can't go back with you, back to Newport."  
  
Sandy leaned back, surprised. He'd had a long discussion with the probation officer this morning. He knew the requirements of the agreement. He knew Ryan knew those same requirements. They were spelled out in the agreement. Dawn was not part of the package; counseling had to be with the Cohen's or at Youth Authority. His mind tried to follow Ryan-speak., tried to figure out what Ryan really meant to say and why. He stood, paced the room. A guard peered in, brought to attention by the sudden movements. Sandy waved him away. Ryan went back to deciphering scratches in the table. Sandy paced.  
  
Mumbling to himself, Sandy tried to think this through. Ryan's phone message for Seth last night. The counselor's ultimatum. Ryan's aversion to opening up. Ryan's idea of going back to Dawn and back to Chino. Ryan's tendency to push people away, his fear of losing control. Ryan, family, Atwoods, Cohens. Sandy stopped mid pace. He stopped and stared at Ryan. It was beginning to make sense, he thought.  
  
"You really think it's that easy? You can just drop this family? Go back to Chino and pick up your life where it was before?" Sandy leaned over the table in front of Ryan. "It won't wash, things change. Your life changed the night you helped Trey steal a car and *you* *can't* *go* *back* Do you really think this is just about you now?"  
  
Ryan pushed himself back in response to Sandy coming closer. Outside the room, attracted by the sudden movements and raised voice, two guards were now intently watching.  
  
Sandy came around the table to stand in front of Ryan. "Look, I know what the agreement is. I know you can't stay with Dawn." Sandy stepped back, shocked as Ryan leaped up. For as slow and deliberate as he usually moved, Ryan in motion could be explosive.  
  
Ryan reached the end of the room and spun around towards Sandy. He opened his mouth, realized he couldn't say what he wanted to say, what he thought he had to say. He didn't want to need anyone. He wanted self sufficiency, self reliance. He'd been let down too many times, the easiest way to deal was to push them away first, before anyone got hurt again. He thought of his blood family. This morning's message with its new problems. He twisted again, towards the wall. Unable to respond verbally, he lashed out with his fists against the only solid object available, the wall.  
  
Already on high alert, guards raced into the room, slamming him towards the floor. Intent on his problems, Ryan reacted without thinking, struggling to get free. At the first sign of resistance, the guards escalated their response. Ryan responded to force the only way he knew how, he fought back. It was a short quick struggle, the two trained guards overpowering the young man. Ryan however continued to fight, his persistent effort a lost cause. Finally getting him handcuffed, the guards allowed Sandy to approach.  
  
As Sandy came near, Ryan collapsed, all fighting ceased. Held upright only by the guards on his arms, he hung his head. Sandy reached for Ryan but was stopped by the guards, "If you still want to speak to him. We can handcuff him to the table. Otherwise we have to take him back. Handcuffs have to stay on though." The second guard added "We have to tell the counseling department too."  
  
Sandy waved back towards the table. "Please, leave him here. I'm not done with him." He sadly watched as Ryan's handcuffs were attached to the table, anchoring him in place. Ryan himself had shut down, showing no reaction.  
  
Sandy stared at Ryan. Ryan stared at the floor. The floor, well it was a floor. So it just was. The clock ticked, time passed. And the staring continued.  
  
Sandy spoke, his voice quiet and sad. "I don't get it. You have a life with us; we want you in the family. We're willing to help you get through this. But I still don't get why you keep pushing us away. Seth.Seth is devastated by the current situation and then your message last night. He felt abandoned by someone he thought of as his brother.."  
  
Ryan was spaced out. Ryan had stopped being there during the scuffle with the guards, he most definitely was not aware of Sandy's monologue directed at him. He was thinking of this morning, the hallways of Orange County Juvenile Hall.  
  
"Hey, man- you Atwood?" The voice reached out to him as he traveled the halls.  
  
"Yeah, who's askin'?"  
  
"Don't matter, I got a message for you. S'posed to tell you AJ sponsored Trey for NLR. Trey sent it down- leave Newport one way or another and get back to Chino. He wants his brother back in with his family."  
  
***********************************************************************A/N California Youth Authority (CYA) in Chino is the birthplace of the Nazi Low Riders (NLR), a gang with ties both in and out of prison. Noted for their ruthlessness, they are motivated by both racial hatred and profit. New members are recruited and mentored by senior members. They are closely tied with the Aryan Brotherhood. **********************************************************************  
  
Sandy gave up talking. Ryan wasn't listening, nothing he said got through. He had expected Ryan to be changed by his night in Juvie, but this went past anything he imagined. Already feeling guilty over his role in Ryan's incarceration, working with a nonresponsive Ryan made him feel worse. Working with a Ryan that exploded in anger made his guilt meter hit the roof. A paperwork error was turning into losing a part of his family. And it came down to it was *his* fault. He needed to fix it, quickly. More paperwork and time before a judge were the next steps. Without input from Ryan it was possible but not as easy. Hopefully getting Ryan home with his family, with his Cohen family, they could work out any other problems.  
  
Sitting back in his chair, Sandy observed Ryan. Sandy's mind wandered, remembering past Ryan encounters. A thought traveled through Sandy's mind, a memory of similar behavior. Anger, with no physical outlet. But, that involved Dawn, and Dawn hadn't visited Ryan. No one had yet. Ryan had mentioned his family and going back to Chino. Maybe it was worth investigating. It was all he had to work with so far, he might as well run with it. This would need input from the probation department. It was time to meet the infamous counselor that actually got Ryan to agree to talk. Sandy grinned, that was one person he really wanted to get to know.  
  
Hey look- It's not Pink Floyd!  
  
Blind Faith. Can't Find My Way Home  
  
But I'm near the end and I just ain't got the time  
  
And I'm wasted and I can't find my way home 


End file.
